


Forgetful

by AutisticWriter



Category: The Fast Show
Genre: Anniversary, Coming Out, Forgiveness, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Multi, One Shot, POV First Person, Past Violence, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8331337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: I don’t understand what is going on. All I know is that Tommy Stein is pissed off with Ron Manager, and I want to know why.





	

The moment I see Ron and Tommy, I know something’s wrong. They’re usually very chummy, but they seem to be ignoring each other as they sit in the green room. Well, Tommy seems to be ignoring Ron, whereas Ron seems to be, somewhat unsuccessfully, trying to talk to Tommy. I’ve never seen them acting like this, so I stand in the doorway without making myself known to them, and watch, intrigued.

Tommy is sat on the sofa with his arms crossed across his chest and one leg folded across the other, his eyes firmly fixed on the wall, and not on Ron, who is sat beside him. He looks extremely pissed off, which is strange to see, because Tommy is usually in a very good mood (at least when Ron isn’t pissing him off by not letting him get a word in edgeways when they’re filming, which is always).

“Look, Tommy, how can I find a way to make it better if you won’t tell me what I’ve done?” Ron asks, sounding exhausted and very close to shouting. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing Ron get angry; it can be very funny to watch.

Tommy doesn’t say anything; I watch him grit his jaw and fold his arms tighter across his chest.

“Come on, Tommy,” Ron says pleadingly. When Tommy doesn’t say anything, he shakes Tommy’s shoulder and shouts, “Tommy!”

He has to say it three more times before he finally gets a reaction.

“What?!” Tommy shouts back, finally turning his head. I have to wonder if this is the first time he’s spoken to Ron today.

“Why’re you ignoring me?” Ron asks, and he sounds hurt again, rather than annoyed.

“For fuck’s sake, use your bloody brain, Ron,” Tommy snaps, not looking at Ron again.

“What do you mean?” Ron asks, sounding genuinely confused.

“Bloody hell, you’re just as thick as people say you are,” Tommy says.

“I don’t understand, Tom,” Ron says, clearly offended by a comment that is actually kind of true. “Please just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well, is today maybe an _anniversary_ of a special event, or am I just making that up?”

The realisation seems to hit Ron like a brick to the face. The way his eyes widen and his face seems to freeze is truly hysterical, but I don’t dare laugh.

“An ann-anniversary?” Ron stutters.

Tommy nods his head, still not looking at him. I have to wonder what the hell’s going on. I want to ask, but they might stop talking if they know I’m here.

“Yes, Ron,” Tommy says slowly and firmly, as though he’s talking to an idiot. “An anniversary.”

“Shit,” is all Ron says.

Tommy raises his eyebrows. “Finally remembered now, have you?”

Ron looks terrified, as though he’s scared Tommy might hit him; he sits forward in his seat and looks like he’s waiting for a chance to run away. But Tommy doesn’t look angry; he just looks hurt.

“It’s been twenty years, Ron,” he says, meeting Ron’s eyes. He looks like he wants to cry.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Ron says, and he puts his arm around Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t exactly relax into the touch either. “I’m so sorry, Tom. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’ve just been so busy, and . . . I’m sorry.”

Ron shifts so he’s facing Tommy’s side, and puts his arms right around him, pulling Tommy into a hug. Tommy sits stiffly for a few seconds, but then he leans against Ron, letting him hug him properly.

I don’t know what the hell is going on. I look at the two of them, but none of this makes any sense to me.

Clearing my throat, I step further into the room. This makes Tommy and Ron jump so badly that they actually bang their heads together. They both cry out in pain, cradling their heads and swearing, and I almost laugh, but stop myself, because I don’t want to piss them off.

“Sorry,” I say. “Didn’t mean to make you jump.”

Ron, rubbing his forehead, turns to look at me, followed a few seconds later by Tommy, who is covering the side of his head with his hand.

“How long’ve you been there?” Ron asks.

“Quite a while.” I say truthfully.

“Fuck,” Tommy mutters. He’s still rubbing his head.

“So you heard . . .?”

I nod my head. Ron looks terrified again, as though he now expects _me_ to hit him, and I’m starting to wonder if this situation might be simpler than it first seemed.

“Ron, Tommy . . .” I say slowly, looking from Ron to Tommy and then back to Ron. “Are you a couple?”

I see their eyes widen, and Tommy’s face goes very, very red. Ron suddenly becomes very interested in looking at the carpet. I look at the pair of them, and smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” When I see how worried they still look, I sigh, and walk further towards them; Ron flinches again, looking primed to run away. I sigh again. “Ron, I’m not going to hurt you. You can calm down.”

Ron looks at me. Tommy, seeing how stressed he looks, takes his hand.

“You’re not?” He says, as though he can’t believe it.

“Of course I’m not, you thick sod,” I say, smiling in what I hope is a reassuring way. “I’m your friend. We’ve worked together for twelve years. I’d never hurt you.”

Ron stares down at his lap. “I was just thinking about when I was younger. People weren’t so . . .” he says, trailing off as if he can’t think of the right word to say.

Tommy looks at him; I see him squeeze Ron’s hand. “Accepting?”

Ron nods. “Yeah, that’s the word. People weren’t so accepting when I was younger.”

I sigh, but it’s a sad sigh; I genuinely feel sorry for the pair of them as I realise what they must’ve been through over the years.

“Yeah, but this isn’t the seventies, is it?”

“Yeah,” Ron says. “But people are still bastards, even now. You only have to look at the news to know that.”

“Exactly,” Tommy says, nodding his head. “I still don’t like telling people, just in case they get . . . angry.”

As he speaks, Tommy rolls up his sleeve and shows me a scar running up his forearm. “I got this when some twat beat the shit out of me in ‘78. Said he’d seen me kissing Ron, and decided to ‘teach me a lesson’. He broke my arm so badly I needed loads of metal in there to get the bones back together. Luckily, I’d already retired from football by them, otherwise it would’ve fucked up my career big time.”

Ron puts his arm around Tommy. I just stare at him, stunned.

“Fucking hell, I had no idea. You poor thing. But, still, that was twenty years ago—”

“Yeah, and last night on the news they said two young blokes got beaten up in a homophobic attack. One’s in a fucking coma!” Tommy snaps.

“Gay men getting the shit kicked out of them by homophobes. Enduring image, isn’t it, hmm?” Ron says, and his voice wobbles. I sigh heavily.

“Come on, let’s stop this,” I say. “We’re just getting ourselves stressed out. Whether or not homophobia is as bad as it was in the seventies, I’m not homophobic. You don’t have to worry about me; I’m not going to hurt you.”

Ron smiles weakly. Tommy exhales slowly, and rubs his face with the palms of his hands.

“Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to get so pissy with you.”

“It’s all right, mate,” I say, clapping my hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry too.”

As Tommy smiles at me, I look down at my watch.

“Shit!” I cry. “We need to get down to makeup pretty soon.”

“Fucking hell, how long were we talking?” Tommy says, chuckling to himself as he gets to his feet.

Ron stands up too, and we make our way out of the greenroom and down the corridor.

“Tom?” Ron says, suddenly sounding a little nervous.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I forgot about it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” Ron babbles.

“You know, what with all this shit, I’d totally forgotten about that,” Tommy says, and I agree; I’d forgotten too. “But, yes, Ron, you certainly will be making it up to me. I’ve got your present at home; I was going to give it to you when we get home.”

“What d’you want to do?” Ron asks, smiling; he’s obviously happy that Tommy isn’t angry with him.

Tommy’s smiling too. “Well, there’s a film on I’d quite like to see, and a nice meal out wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Great. We can do that.”

“Thanks,” Tommy says, and he squeezes Ron’s hand.

Beaming, Ron reaches up and gives Tommy a quick kiss.

“I really am sorry, you know,” he says.

“I noticed.”

“Come on, you two,” I say, smiling fondly. “We need to get going.”

And, without another word, we make our way down to makeup.


End file.
